Part 35 (2/2)
Give Glory te Jesus the King ivvermair The King 'at ah tell'd all aboot it!”
On the day of his death, Squire Fuller, Philip, Lucy and the little children, gathered round his bed to receive his parting blessing.
Philip had rightly said, ”Old Adam's benediction on the children will prove a richer heritage than houses or land.”
On one and all the patriarch placed his feeble hands, the while he breathed a silent prayer, and said aloud, ”O Lord, mah G.o.d an'
Sayviour! bless the bairn!” The children were dismissed, the elders remained, and were joined by Adam's sons and daughters, who gathered round to see a golden sunset such as was never equalled by any gorgeous glory of the western sky. The old man lay propped with pillows, his scant white hair smoothed from his brow, and his thin brown hands laid on the spotlessly white coverlet of his bed. The shadows of evening had not yet fallen, but the sun was fast declining, and its slanting beams fell upon his pillow, and lit up his features with their glow Mary partially drew down the blind to shade his eyes.
”Nay, nay, mah la.s.sie,” said Adam, ”draw t' cottain up; 'It's a pleeasant thing for t' ees te behold the sun.' It weean't ho't ma'; mah poor and ees iz gettin' a cottain drawn ower them, bud that only 'elps 'em te see t' leet o' t' glory 'at's jost dawnin' upo' ma'. Will yan o' ye read t' ninety-fost Psalm?”
Lucy read it, and as soon as she began, he said, with infinite tenderness,--
”G.o.d bless yo', mah dear; ah've heeard yer pratty voice ivver sin yo'
had yan, an' it's sweeter noo then ivver. Oh, Maister Philip! bud you _are_ rich! Some fooaks get a treasure _wiv_ a wife, bud you've gotten a treasure _iv_ a wife. Bless 'em, Lord, ten thoosandfoad wi' Thi' luv an' fayvour.”
When the Psalm was ended he turned to the old squire.
”Gi'e ma' hod o' yer 'and,” said he; ”the Lord's dealt boontifully wi'
yo', Maister Fuller, an' noo, prayse the Lord! that psalm belangs te you as weel as me. 'He that dwells i' t' seeacret pleeace o' the Meeast High,' that's iv His luv i' Jesus Christ, 'sall abide under t'
shado' ov t' Almighty.' _Abide!_ hey, for ivver an' ivver an' ivver!
'He sall cuver thee wiv 'is feathers.' Halleluia! Warm ageean His 'art, an' oot o' t' reeach o' 'arm. Ah's there! nestlin' an' cuddlin'
an' seeafe. 'Thoo sall nut be aflaid for t' terror be neet.' Flaid!
No: what is there te be freetened on? Jesus ez killed all that, because He's slayn t' enmaty, an' G.o.d an' uz iz yan. He sall give His aingels chayge ower tha'. Glory be te G.o.d! they're here! Ah can 'ear t' rustlin' o' th'ir wings. They're waitin' fo' ma'!
'Aingels beckons ma' away, An' Jesus bids ma' c.u.m.'
Bud that last vess caps ivverything! 'Ah'll show 'im me' salvaytion!'
Ah've seen a good deal, an' felt a good deal mair, bud it's nowt c.u.mpared te what's c.u.min'. Ah've seen it through a gla.s.s darkly, an'
ah've felt it through a gluv. Noo ah sail see Him feeace te feeace, an' tutch Him as Thomas did, till me' sowl is ravished wi' glory an'
delight Moses saw t' Promised Land, bud he was a lang way oft, and t'
river rowlled atween. Ah sall be on t' spot, an' be a citizen o' that c.u.n.try. St. John saw it i' Patmos, bud it was a vision an' a dreeam.
Ah sail see t' real thing an' be payt on it, an' hev it for t' lot o'
me' inheritance. St. Paul saw it, bud he 'ad te c.u.m doon ageean te be p.r.i.c.ked wi' thorns an' buffeted wi' trubbles. Ah sall gan oot nae mair for ivver! Maister Fuller! Ah'll be riddy fo' yo' when yo' c.u.m, an'
we'll gan tegither te t' King, an' as Nathan Blyth says, we'll shoot and sing till we mak' heaven ring wi' prayse!”
It is not to be supposed that this and much other joyous and triumphant speech was said without break and pause. Now and again he was utterly spent with excess of joy, and the feeble tongue refused to follow the spirit's eager flight, and failed to syllable the rapture of his exulting soul. About eight o'clock in the evening the messenger came. The old man seemed to be asleep, but he suddenly opened his eyes, and, looking upward, lifted his hand towards heaven; a strange soft light and a beaming smile broke upon his face. ”Heaven's oppen!”
said he; ”Ah see Jesus Christ standin' at t' right 'and o' G.o.d. He hez a star in His 'and. Beautiful! Beautiful!” The light upon his face deepened; it seemed to be haloed with a glory. ”He's c.u.min',” said he, ”c.u.min' for me. No, it isn't a star; it's a croon. Oh, mah Sayviour, c.u.m quickly. A croon o' glory!” Lifting up both hands, he half sprang from the bed, crying, ”It's mahne, prayse the Lord, it's mahne!” He fell back upon his pillow, with a triumphant smile upon his face, and Adam Olliver's glorified spirit went to heaven to wear it--that crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, had laid up for him against that day.
So died Adam Olliver, and thus a life of singularly winning and beautiful piety was fitly crowned by a singularly beautiful and exultant end.
The old man was buried in the grounds around the chapel which his faith and prayer had chiefly reared. The whole of the societies in the Kesterton Circuit were represented at his burial, and the large concourse which a.s.sembled to pay this final tribute of respect agreed in this, that though he was but an old and illiterate hedger, his holiness, his integrity, his wondrous power with G.o.d, had made him royal, and that ”a prince and a great man had fallen in Israel.”
Squire Fuller asked and received permission to erect a marble tablet to his memory in Nestleton Chapel. There it continues to this day, and every tourist pa.s.sing through Waverdale, may turn aside and read for himself the inscription thereon engraven. Beneath the record of his name, age, and death, and a brief reference to his n.o.ble life are inscribed the following texts of Scripture. Those who have read these brief chronicles of village life will justify their choice.
”THE EFFECTUAL, FERVENT PRAYER OF A RIGHTEOUS MAN AVAILETH MUCH.”
”A MAN FULL OF FAITH AND OF THE HOLY GHOST.”
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